From Riders to Outsiders
by ObsidianShadow1994
Summary: Murtagh is sent back to the Burning Plains to capture Eragon and Saphira again. When they fight, their magic takes a turn and they end up in another land; the homeland of the Elves. They are now faced with a new, more powerful danger... full summ. inside


Murtagh is sent back to the Burning Plains to capture Eragon and Saphira again. When they fight, their magic takes a turn and they end up in another land; the homeland of the Elves. They are now faced with a new, more powerful danger...(full summ. inside)

Murtagh is sent back to the Burning Plains to capture Eragon and Saphira again. When they fight upon the Plateau again, their magic goes wrong and they end up in the original land of the Elves, called Caelemtonia, but are facing a new, dangerous being called a Zampra that is terrorizing them and the small number of human populated islands off the coast. Eragon, Murtagh, Thorn and Saphira meet Storm and Opal, the twin daughters of the Elven king and queen, who have befriended two wild dragons in their quest to exterminate the Zampra. Will the two now enemies be able to fight together in order to survive and return home?

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**Okaaaay, Explination: I have been having writers block on my Inuyasha fanfics, so I started reading Eragon...and I finished it...so I started Eldest...and finished it...ALRIGHT, I ADMIT IT, I'M HOOKED! And this fanfic storyline has been bugging me so I'm writing it out. (I figured, as long as I didn't have writers block, I shouldn't be complaining.) So here is my first attempts at an Eragon fanfic. (I looked around on the world-wide-web and there is hardly ANY good Eragon fanfictions out. Simply annoying.) Anyway, hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Murtagh squinted against the sun's bright rays in his eyes. The back of his head had not stopped throbbing since he had left Urubean and was only getting worse. The rest of his body was not in any better shape. He gritted his teeth and swallowed back a wave a nausea. The world had started to shift incoherently around him and his head felt as though it was being thrown against a stone wall...again.

Just the slight memory of the pain and anguish that he had endured when he had returned empty-handed to the king sent new blots of pain through his body and his stomach heaved; a small amount of bile resting in his mouth.

"_Thorn, I need to land, now." _he called aloud and mentally down to the red dragon flying beneath him.

Thorn sensed Murtagh's weariness and quickly touched down on to a rocky outcrop of land. Murtagh fumbled with the leg traps on his saddle clumsily; his fingers felt thick and stiff; before half-sliding, half-falling off of Thorn. He stumbled over a few steps and threw up behind a fallen log in front of him, gasping for breath and collapsed. Thorn reached out his neck and half-caught him, gently placing him down, sitting upright against the log.

_"Young one."_he said, but Murtagh had already passed out.

* * *

Murtagh lay still; it kept the pain to a minimum. His current state could have been called sleeping if he hadn't been fully aware of his surroundings. It was so peaceful lying here, only ruined with the knowledge that he would have to get up...soon. Something smooth bumped him gently on the right cheek and he could smell musty breath stirring his hair.

_"...Murtagh."_

Oh, it was only Thorn. They probably should have left hours ago, or had it been days? He couldn't remember how long he had lain here...

_"Murtagh."_

Murtagh's left eye slowly opened, followed by his right. He blinked owlishly at the red dragon who was eye to eye with him. "Thorn." He managed to croak out. His throat was dry and scratchy; he swallowed thickly as he attempted to sit up. Thorn lowered his head slightly so he could use the ivory spikes on the crown of his head to pull himself up. His body wasn't as sore as it had been, which was a small relief.

_"Thorn, is there any water?"_ He asked mentally.

Thorn's ruby eye looked apologetically at him. _"No, we left immediately without taking on supplies." _he said. _"You've been unconscious for almost two days."_

Murtagh blinked. Two days? His dry throat quickly distracted him from this revelation. Scooping out a small hole he focused on accessing his magic. _"Thorn, I need your help with this."_He immediatly felt his dragon feeding him much needed energy. "Reisa adurna." He rasped. The dirt darkened and the small hole filled with water. Cupping his hands, he drank the clear liquid which brought blissful relief to his throat. After several mouthfuls, he released the spell. "Letta."

Thorn stared at his Rider as he watched the water sink back into the earth. _"Little one."_ He growled soothingly. _"You worried me when you fell off like that." _Murtagh scratched affectionately under Thorn's chin. _"I can't help it when I fall uncouncious, but I'll try next time."_Smoke blew from Thorn's nostril when he huffed, but Murtagh could sense his amusement.

He pulled himself to his feet and up into the saddle. Thorn turned his head back at him. _"Your mind is deeply troubled, Murtagh, about going back to capture Eragon and his dragon. I can sense what you are feeling, but I cannot read your mind as long as you block me from it."_

Murtagh fumbled with the leg straps on the saddle, distractedly. _"You know as much as I do that we cannot fail this time to capture them, but as long as they are free, the world has hope."_

_"YOU and I have hope too, you mean. I may not know the exact thoughts that you had upon receiving the knowledge that Eragon is your brother, but I can sense the small joy that you had in it, as I still sense the ghost of hope you hold for him." _Thorn said. _"Knowing someone else shares the burden of carrying the weight of Morzan's cursed name would bring even a small amount of joy in it, wouldn't it?"_

Murtagh sat up looking at the lowering sun. "Perhaps." he said.

They didn't talk anymore as Thorn spread his ruby wings and took off soaring through the air back towards the Burning Plains.

* * *

Eragon sat on a rock, looking over the Burning Plains where the battle just two days ago had been fought. The battle that Horthgar had died in, the battle in which he had been reunited with his cousin and villagers, the battle were Roran had killed the Twins...and the battle in which he had lost to the new Rider, Murtagh..._his brother._

_Brother!_Both of them were sons of Selena and Morzan! Disgust built up inside him. He had always wondered about who his father might have been, but now, he only wished that he could comletely erase the knowledge from his mind. _"Not that it would change anything."_he thought bitterly, his thoughts turned back to Murtagh. Any joy he might have had in knowing that he was his brother was extinguished with the fact that he was now allied to the King. His friend was now his greatest enemy besides the dark king himself.

Saphira walked up behind him, lowering her head down to his height. _"Do not let it bother you so much. No matter who your father or brother are people will respect and love you. You have done too much to give them any reason to think otherwise, little one." _She said.

Eragon sighed heavily. "I know. It's just...now." he stopped, conflicted, before standing up. "I don't feel as though we won anything. If Murtagh hadn't let us go we would be in Galbatorix's hands right now." That confused him. He had been unable to overpower Murtagh's magic. How had he gotten so strong in so short a time and why had he let them go? He could have taken them both easily. His hand unconsciously fell to the empty place at his hip as anger rose inside him again. He had let him and Saphira go, but he had taken Zar'roc with him; the last gift besides Snowfire and Saphira's saddle that Brom had given him. He suddenly thought of something.

"Saphira, can you please fly me back to the Plateau?" he asked. The giant blue dragon lowered herself and he climbed on before taking off in a single leap. Flapping her wings, she flew upwards, over the plateau before circling down and landing in the middle, where Eragon had fought Murtagh. He climbed off and looked around at first, but then he slowly walked over to where Murtagh's hand-and-a-half sword lay discarded on the rocks. Picking it up, he inspected, seeing his own reflection in the blade's polished steel. Saphira stepped towards him. _"Do you intend to use that sword?"_

Eragon nodded, sitting down on large rock. _"Until I can get a real Rider's sword of my own, I will use this one."_Saphira reached forward sniffing the blade. Suddenly, her head whipped up and she looked to the sky. _"Perhaps you may need to use it sooner that you think."_Eragon jumped up and saw on the horizon Thorn's large red figure making its way towards them. Gritting his teeth, he grasped his new sword tightly.

"Let them come."

* * *

Murtagh squinted at the plateau where he could see Saphira and, more importantly, Eragon. He scowled; he had been hoping that Eragon might have left by now, and that it would take longer to find him, also it would keep them both away from the king for as long as possible. Sunlight glinted off of a sword in Eragon's hand; he recognized it now as his former hand-and-a-half sword. It was a whole new pain to him. Both his friend-brother, and his own sword were now turned against him. His hand went to Zar'roc's hilt. _"Perhaps that's how HE feels too."_

Thorn landed several meters from them and crouched low, snarling as Murtagh jumped out to the ground and drew Zar'roc. He buried his emotions and prepared for the coming fight, drawing energy to him; he could sense Eragon doing the same. "Hello, Brother." He saw Saphira crouch behind him in response to Thorn's position. Eragon's face stayed set in his expression of anger. "Go back to your _King, _Murtagh." He resisted the urge to flinch at the stinging coldness of his brother's voice and started walking slowly towards them, clenching and uncleching his grip on Zar'roc.

"I will be able to do that, after I capture you and your dragon." he said. Eragon began walking forward to meet him bringing up his new sword. The two dragons eyed each other like hawks, shifting forward. The tension continued to build as both Eragon and Murtagh walked faster towards each other.

"Do you really think that Saphira or I will come willingly, Murtagh?" Eragon said. "You don't have a choice!" Murtagh shouted.

With a roar they clashed, sweeping their blades around in a deadly dance. The two dragons jumped into the sky wheeling around each other before colliding, ripping, biting and scratching. Thorn tried to used his bigger bulk to push Saphira off balance, but he could not out maneuver her. Latching onto his right side, Thorn screeched as she breathed a colum of blue fire in his face. Bringing his tail up he raked her side and flanks with the sharp spines on it. She roared in pain and anger and pushed off of him. The both flapped higher to regain their lost altitude.

Meanwhile, back on the Plateau, Eragon and Murtagh locked blades; sparks flew between them as they pressed forward. Then, jumping back, Murtagh shot his hand forward. "Brisingr!" The smell of burning hair reach his nose as Eragon jumped out of the way of the torrent of fire that shot out of his hand, illuminating the now darkening night. He didn't even feel any drain of energy from the spell and launched forward swinging Zar'roc upward. He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain as his own when Eragon cried out in pain as the red blade cut through the flesh of his arm. Reaching for the magic again, he began weaving the spell that he had supposed to use during their last battle; the one that would take them to Uru'bean.

He was seconds away from finishing the spell when a roar alerted him and he looked up. Saphira was diving straight at him and less that thirty feet away from him, Thorn just behind her. Just as he released the spell, an incredible surge of magic burst from Saphira, coliding with his magic; altering, diverting it. Then a white light encompassed them before dissappearing, taking them with them leaving the Plateau as if nothing had ever been there.

* * *

Blank whiteness.

That was all that Murtagh could feel or sense around him. The absurdity of his situation made him want to laugh. He last remembered the fight with Eragon then Saphira releasing that surge of magic and now he didn't know what was happening. _"Maybe I'm dead."_ he mused. He reached out with his mind for Thorn, but he couldn't find him. _"Maybe we're both dead." _He suddenly felt a weight around him and a loud explosion rang out. Blackness replaced the white and wind whipped around him; he realized he was falling.

**Thud.**

Surprisingly, he landed on something which grunted before he bounced off of it and rolled to one side. Gasping for breath and spitting out dirt, he pushed himself off the ground, looking back to see what he had landed on. He watched bemused as Eragon grunted again as he got up. Fortunately for him, Zar'roc had landed next to him. Picking it up, he realized with shock that they were not in Uru'bean. They were both in the middle of a circular burnt area surrounded by thick dark woods. The moonlight cast an adequate, yet eerie light on them.

_"Thorn! Where are you!" _Murtagh stretched his conscience as far as he could, but still recieved no answer from his dragon. Turning, he faced Eragon, who had seemed to have noticed their surroundings as well.

He stared at him. "Where are we, Murtagh? What did you do?"

Murtagh snorted. "Don't blame me for this; your dragon disrupted the magic and sent us here. I have no idea where _she _sent us."

Eragon still had his hand-and-a-half sword which he brandished in front of him. "Don't blame Saphira for this! You were drawing upon magic; you are partially responsible for this! Now were the hell are we?"

"I don't bloody kn-" Murtagh's retort was cut short by a movment in the trees around them. Eragon called out. "Who's there!" Neither of them were prepared for what did.

Raz'ac.

First two, then three, then seven; at least a dozen black Raz'ac shuffled hissing out of the trees, spreading out to each side of the two Riders. Murtagh noticed none of them wore thick cloaks as the two in service to the Empire did, in fact none of them wore any type of clothing; exposing their bodies completely covered in black exo-skeletons. Eragon spoke from beside him. "What is this? I thought there were only two Raz'ac in Alagaesia."

Dread rose unwelcome in Murtagh's chest. "There are only two that are known. I have no idea-" he stopped again at the sight of two more creatures stepped out of the shadows. They were different from the Raz'ac in that fact of they wore identical clothing and in apearance, they looked like Shades with crimson hair, marron eyes and grayish pale skin that gave off a sickly glow in the moonlight, but on their faces and hands were black, armor-like plating; freakishly similar to that of a Raz'ac's exo-skeleton. They were a male and a female, who stepped forward, her eyes piercing and smiled sinisterly at them.

"What an unexpected pleasssure thisss isss. Sssuch power within thessse two; it will nourisssh usss for a long time, Brother." Cold chills traveled down Murtagh's spine at her voice. yet he somhow found his own.

"Who are you and what part of the Empire are we in?"

Both creatures completely ignored his question. The male creature, who bore an expression of boredom, stepped towards them. "They may have power, but their mindsss ssseem addled. Let usss make thisss quick, I don't wisssh to ssshare with the othersss." The black plates on his hands shifted and grew out over till they were a foot long past his fingertips; forming a black blade. The Raz'ac circled around them, constantly hissing yet not daring to attack before the strange creatures did, Murtagh raised Zar'roc readying himself even though every instinct he had was telling him to run.

The male rushed at Eragon almost faster than his eye could catch while he just barely ducked the strange female's weapon when she charged him. Bringing Zar'roc up he blocked the next hit, but he found himself struggling against her strength. Out of the corner of his vision he saw her grow another weapon on her other hand and swipe at his legs. He jumped back, but she was too fast and he couldn't avoid getting a long gash on his left shin. He stood back, wincing against the pain, but not daring to take his ayes off of the creature in front of him. He reached for his magic and prepared the words of the ancient language in his mind.

The female smiled evilly. "Too late. Far too late for that."

He gasped as the pain from his wounded leg suddenly increased ten-fold; burning under his skin like a white hot coal. In that second of hesitation, the creature's foot struck him square in the chest, cracking several ribs and throwing him twenty feet backwards before he slammed painfully into a tree. The fire in his leg only continued to increased, rising up into a blazing inferno, consuming almost all of his mind; he slumped down clutching at his leg. He looked up to see, farther away, the male effortlessly deflect a thrust and kick Eragon across the side of his head, sending him down, but then his attention snapped back to the female who was approaching him, still smiling. Behind her several Raz'ac edged forward eagerly.

"Thisss won't be long." she almost purred at him. Through the pain, movement caught his eye from the trees and another creature, a male emerged hissing angrily. He didn't even seem to notice him as he snapped at the two attacking.

"Foolsss. You have revealed usss to her sssight. The attack isss ruined, ssshe hass-" he dodged as an arrow flew out of the trees behind him, but the female only moved fast enough to avoid being hit through the head, instead the arrow embedded itself in her shoulder and immediately burst into white fire. The female's shriek lanced painfully in Murtagh's ears. The pain in his shin was spreading up his leg and his eyesight was blurring.

A shout came from the trees and there were suddenly dozens of graceful figures, loping around them. The two males and the injured female ran off, but the slower Raz'ac were cut down ruthlessly by the figures. One of them crouched by him. "This one is infected. What of the other?"

"Briused and broken, but...uninfected. Lucky idiot." came a reply.

Murtagh felt slender hands lifting him up and he tried pushing them off to no avail. "Get-t...off me." he managed through the pain. Someone scoffed near him. "Stubborn fool."

Then blackness engulfed him and he knew nothing.

* * *

The first thing Murtagh noticed when he woke up was that his leg was no longer burning. He gradually became aware that he was laying on something soft and he could hear other people around him. Opening his eyes, he blinked in the morning light and looked in shock at where he was. He was in a large room filled with beds and elves; probably a kind of infirmary. Some elves were laying on them with various wounds while others walked around, carrying food, water or seemed to be healing. He watched stunned as he saw one male elf focusing over one patient's arm which was completely ripped off and bind it back together; bone, layers of muscles, tissues and skin, perfectly mended back on in under a minute before rising and moving away to another patient.

With his knowledge of magic, even though it was limited, he did know that even the strongest elf _should _have been gravely weakened from healing a dismembered arm and would have had to have exemplary knowledge of the body. He looked around himself again and saw Eragon several beds away.

_"What the hell is going on!" _he thought. _"The LAST place the **elves** would put me is in an infirmary. Why would they heal my wounds anyway, I'm their enemy." _He called desperately out for Thorn, straining their connection. It wasn't as though Thorn was shutting him out; he could feel him through their bond, but was still unable to reach him. He began to sit up before a hand grasped his shoulder from behind him and pushed him gently down.

"Nay, thee should not move. The poison has left thy body weak and has yet to fully recover." He whipped his head around at the elf woman behind him. Having only seen one elf, Arya, and even then she had been in a coma, he was not unaffected by her beauty, but there was something off about her. The barest hints of lines flitted over her face and her ears were not as pointed as a true elf's. In fact, she looked more like Eragon did now.

He quickly got over it though and pushed her hand away. "Keep your hands off me. Where have you taken me? Where is my sword?"

The elf woman made a strange hand sign that he didn't recognize. "Thou art in Palacetree Infirmary. I am Briss. Thy leg was badly infected by the Zampra's poison, but by Lady Storm's efforts and medicines, thy limb twas saved. She hath been gone only shortly before thou awoke."

Murtagh scowled, not understanding anything she had said. "I've never heard of a place called Palacetree and why would elves heal my wounds? In what area of Alagaesia have you taken me?" Briss opened her mouth to answer, but then looked past him and inclined her head. "Thou hast returned, Lady Storm. Thy patient awoke after thou left and seems very confused from his ordeal."

Murtagh whipped his head around at who she was addressing and stared in shock. The elf woman walking towards them, carrying a bowl of liquid, was tall with the blackest hair he had ever seen, held up in a high ponytail, waved down almost to her ankles, her skin was a creamy alabaster and twin saphire eyes, containing deep coils of restless energy, were set in her elegant face above her straight nose and pale rose lips. She was unnaturally beautiful, even for and elf and moved with impossible grace. She was dressed in plain wrap around dark blue dress with black trousers beneath and polished black leather boots. She nodded to Briss who walked away and the elf, Storm, knelt down beside him.

Kicking himself inwardly, he tried to sit up again, but she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back. "Thy stubbornness would be admirable if it were in sync with thine common sense." She remarked dryly, though her voice resembled water murmering over pebbles. Murtagh found himself unable to move for a split second, before his ire rose and he pushed himself fully up into a sitting position.

"Give me some straight answers, Elf. Where are you holding me and what are you trying to do; what do you hope to accomplish by healing me?" he fumed at her. She simply placed her hand into the bowl that she had brought with her. "I am fufilling my duties as I am satisfying my curiousities about thou."

"I asked for a straight answer. What are you up to, Elf?" Murtagh was getting tired of the elf's cryptic answers and his leg was begining to throb painfully. He tried flexing his foot and gasped in pain. Storm's expression became annoyed at his movments.

"Adurna risa un iet tauthr." she muttered. Lifting her hand from the bowl, the water rose from it as well; floating in a perfect sphere under her hand. When she removed the sheet from over his leg, he saw it was a unhealthy gray and the cut on his shin had puckered and turned black. She turned to him. "If thou wish me to heal thy wound, thou will hold still. Thy movments spread what little poison remains." Lowering her hand and the orb of water onto the cut. The water expanded and encased his shin, shifting in spiral patterns around it.

Murtagh could feel energy being fed into the water which was flowing over his skin like a massage.

Storm spoke again. "Kveykva, waise heill." Lightning sparked over and in the water and a disgusting black substance emerged from the wound until all of the water was stained black. Finally, she guided the polluted water back into the bowl; looking at his leg, it looked as though it had never been injured; it no longer hurt to move it. He looked up at her intent on knowing why she was treating him, but she was glaring at him with stormy eyes.

"Thou art a stranger in a stranger's land, far from thy home. For what purpose hast thou come here?"

Murtagh'd had enough, "What the hell are you talking about? I wasn't the one who sent me here; I don't even know where _here_ is. In what part of Alagaesia am I?" he saw the slightest widening of her eyes at his question.

"Thou are nowhere in that land, though I have heard of it. This is Caelemtonia, Ancient Sister Land of the Elves."

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**Okay, sorry to all my Inuyasha fanfic readers for my not updating them, but I will take any kind of inspiration I can with my writing. (I'm working on them, by the way.) TO all of you who just read this chapter, REVIEW PLEASE. I checked around the internet and there are hardly any good Eragon fanfics. Next chapter coming right up. Bye.**

**KZ**


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